Sun 7 May 2017
A Silent Movie Review by Jonathan Lewis: DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE (1920).
Posted by Steve under Horror movies , Reviews , Silent films[8] Comments
DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE. Paramount-Artcraft Pictures, 1920. Silent film. John Barrymore, Brandon Hurst, Martha Mansfield, Charles Lane, Cecil Clovelly, Nita Naldi, J. Malcolm Dunn. Based on the novella Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, by Robert Louis Stevenson. Director: John S. Robertson.
Originally published in 1886, Robert Louis Stevenson’s Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde introduced the reading public to two of the most well known characters in modern literary history: the conventional Victorian physician, Dr. Jekyll and his alter-ego, the uninhibited and cruel Mr. Hyde. Stylized as a detective story, one in which the reader does not discover that Jekyll and Hyde are merely two parts of the same man until the story’s ending, Stevenson’s novella highlighted the duality of man: That lying underneath man’s civilized, urbane exterior is a bestial side, one that later critics identified as lurking not far beneath a highly repressed Victorian society.
Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, however, doesn’t read as if it was designed to impart any emphatic moral lesson. Instead, the work unfolds as a mystery tale and, to a lesser extent, an early work of the emerging genre of horror fiction. In that sense, it is as much of a thriller as the shudder pulp stories that it influenced decades later.
Indeed, Stevenson’s novella is written from the point of view of a society lawyer, Gabriel John Utterson who begins an amateur investigation into the strange happenings concerning his friend, Dr. Jekyll. By the end of the tale, Utterson has learned that Dr. Jekyll and his strange friend, Mr. Hyde, are one and the same person. Two divided halves of the same self. This was a concept that Stevenson, who is still best known for his adventure fiction, apparently wanted to incorporate into his writings. In that sense, Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde has been not only a literary success, but also a personal triumph for Stevenson as Jekyll and Hyde are now among the best known fictional characters in Anglo-American literature.
Although it wasn’t the first effort to adapt Stevenson’s novella into a motion picture, Paramount/Artcraft’s Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde (1920) has ended up the default template for nearly all the subsequent movie versions. Arguably based more upon Thomas Russell Sullivan’s 1887 stage adaptation of Stevenson’s novella than the literary work itself, Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde stars John Barrymore in the dual title role, a performance that by all accounts solidified his Hollywood star power. Barrymore, who at the time was still best known as a stage actor, delivers an exceptional performance in his portrayal of two halves of the same individual man.
The Dr. Jekyll that the audience first encounters in the film as opposed to the novella is both a physician and a philanthropist, a Victorian man of science who devotes considerable amount of time to helping the poor. He is a rather stiff, that is to say not particularly relaxed individual, who seems to be more interested in expanding his knowledge than in the more mundane, let alone sensual, aspects of life.
Jekyll is, however, engaged to a charming lady named Millicent (Martha Mansfield). Millicent’s father, Sir George Carew (Brandon Hurst) in the presence of friends Edward Enfield (Cecil Clovelly), Dr. Lanyon (Charles Lane) and Utterson (J. Malcolm Dunn), tempts the ascetic physician with the possibility of exploring London’s less refined, if not downright seedy, locales. Observers have rightly noted that Carew’s temptation of Jekyll into the proverbial dark side seems to be based more on the character of Lord Henry in Oscar Wilde’s The Picture of Dorian Gray (1891) than on Stevenson’s work itself.
Furthermore, at least some of the silent film’s intertitles include text that are directly borrowed from, or inspired by, Wilde’s literary portrait, and philosophical study of libertinism. Indeed, Sir Carew’s admonition that “the only way to get rid of a temptation is to yield to it†comes directly from Wilde.
The turning point for Dr. Jekyll is when he meets Gina (Nita Naldi), a dance hall girl he encounters when Sir George Carew takes him to the seedier side of town. Jekyll is fascinated by her, but is actually somewhat embarrassed, if not repulsed, by the degree to which he finds himself attracted to her.
Before he absconds back into the London night, Jekyll engages in a short conversation with Gina during which she shows him a large ornamental ring that she wears on her finger. She tells him that the ring acts as a vessel and that it contains poison. When Jekyll ends his encounter with Gina, it seems as if her poison ring is all but forgotten. The audience, which is familiar with foreshadowing, knows that this ring will very likely end up playing a prominent role in what follows.
It is Jekyll’s encounter with Gina, a character that doesn’t appear in Stevenson’s novella, that sets him down a path from which he will never return, for it is his interaction with this dance hall girl that guides his decision to manufacture a chemical compound that will separate his good, philanthropic self from his baser, lecherous self – a part of him that he never acknowledged existed until he met her.
Barrymore’s transformation from Jekyll to Hyde is perhaps the highlight of the film, for it showcases both his raw theatrical talent, specifically his ability to convey meaning with his facial expressions.
The remainder of the film follows Dr. Jekyll and his diabolical alter ego, Mr. Hyde, as the latter embarks upon a path of death and destruction. Barrymore’s Hyde, dressed in a top hat and cape, lurks through London’s back alleys. Initially, Hyde seems to not only relish his inhibited self, but also appears to get away with his bad behavior.
Things change, however, when he first injures a child, then escalates to murder, beating a man to death with his cane. Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde is as much a tragedy, as it is a horror story. It’s the story of a man, who in his quest for scientific knowledge, ends up both becoming and subsumed by his repressed, animalistic self.
Mastered in high definition from archival 35mm elements, the Kino Lorber Blu-Ray release of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde that I recently had the opportunity to watch provides movie aficionados with an opportunity to watch a relatively clean, uncluttered version of this silent film, one that exists in the public domain.
Released in 2014, the Kino Classics version also features a serviceable, but by no means outstanding, score by Rodney Sauer, one that is performed by the Mont Alto Motion Picture Orchestra. There are moments during the film when the music seems intrusive, as if it were disconnected from what was occurring on screen.
Still, for the most part, Kino’s Blu-Ray release is quite watchable, despite some elements that were clearly degraded in the course of time. There’s also the tinting factor. Although most of the film was photographed in standard black and white, there are several sequences that are now bathed in either a reddish or bluish hue. Given that the workmanlike photography by cinematographer Roy F. Overbaugh is not particularly artistic – certainly not on the level of his German Expressionist contemporaries – the tinting does little to either elevate or to decrease the overall rather flat, staid visuals.
Indeed, apart from the sequences featuring prosthetics in which Jekyll transforms into Hyde and the fever dream scene in which Jekyll is confronted by a giant crawling spider, there’s little in the way of outstanding visual effects in this film. In many ways, it’s Barrymore and Barrymore alone who carries the movie. At the end of the day, Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde is Barrymore’s vehicle, one to which both Fredric March and Spencer Tracy were truly indebted.
Without Barrymore’s uncanny transformation from Dr. Jekyll into Mr. Hyde, it also remains uncertain whether the two characters in one would have lived in through not only March and Tracy, but also such disparate actors as Jack Palance, Kirk Douglas, and Michael Caine, all of whom took turns in portraying the quintessential man divided against himself.
May 7th, 2017 at 10:31 pm
I have always thought the comment that Stevenson produced the only mystery where the solution was more horrifying than the crime an apt one.
Hyde in the story is more brute than criminal. It took theatrics to portray him as both brute and fiend, throwback and criminal.
May 8th, 2017 at 3:39 am
This has never been filmed as it was written. The closest was I, MONSTER, which changes the names and focuses on Utterson’s investigation.
May 8th, 2017 at 6:59 am
This is a very good, informative review.
I greatly admire Stevenson’s Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. It’s a classic fusion of mystery and science fiction. It has superb storytelling.
But I’ve never liked any film version. I disliked this Barrymore version, and the sound remakes with Fredric March and especially Spencer Tracy – the most depressing of the three.
Jonathan’s review rightly complains about the cinematography lacking creativity. The whole film is lunky, routine, and poorly made. It is painfully below the best standards, not just of German Expressionism, but of the best Hollywood filmmaking of 1920.
Compare it with such 1920 Hollywood good movies as:
The County Fair (Edmund Mortimer, Maurice Tourneur)
Down on the Farm (Ray Grey, F. Richard Jones, Erle C. Kenton)
Just Pals (John Ford)
The Mark of Zorro (Fred Niblo)
The Mollycoddle (Victor Fleming)
Nurse Marjorie (William Desmond Taylor)
Outside the Law (Tod Browning)
The Soul of Youth (William Desmond Taylor)
Way Down East (D.W. Griffith)
Why Change Your Wife? (Cecil B. De Mille)
Within Our Gates (Oscar Micheaux)
May 8th, 2017 at 9:54 am
The 1941 version with Spencer Tracy, Lana Turner and Ingrid Bergman — need more be said, is certainly misguided, but the Rouben Mamoulian 1932 film with Fredric march and an outstanding Miriam Hopkins is certainly worth more than a single look. I am no fan of March but this is the only first class filming that captures anything close to the sexuality of Stevenson’s story.
May 8th, 2017 at 5:18 pm
Good points, Mike!
May 8th, 2017 at 9:20 pm
The Tracy film is mostly worth watching as a fine example of the repressed Hollywood libido in full glorious flight.
The March and Dan Curtis/Jack Parlance versions are my favorites. The Barrymore is all Barrymore or nothing.
May 8th, 2017 at 10:04 pm
This was the first silent movie I’ve been able to watch all the way through in a long time, the same Kino Blu-Ray that Jon watched. The stagey settings didn’t impress me, but John Barrymore’s presence (and transformation) certainly did.
I also thought Nita Naldi was excellent, in her movie-making debut, quite a striking performance. I see that her film career ended in 1929, so except for crossword puzzles, I believe she’s all but forgotten today.
May 9th, 2017 at 9:45 am
Tracy’s version the only one not to let Jekyll off the hook. The minimal make-up clearly shows J enjoying Hyde’s depravities. His Hyde cinema’s first sexual sadist – his sessions with Bergman used by David Lynch in Blue Velvet. With Bergman’s daughter.